


New Roads

by Umeko



Series: Daughter of Fire [6]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Feanorions, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22584520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umeko/pseuds/Umeko
Summary: Olorin bids farewell to a friend in Valinor.
Series: Daughter of Fire [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/243205
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	New Roads

**Author's Note:**

> I have been putting this off for far too long, so I am posting this as a one-shot. Reading the earlier fics in the series, especially Blood and Ashes may be useful.

Life in Valinor was peaceful, to the point of boredom. Mornel could see why Glorfindel had leapt at the chance to return to Endore, his pledge to serve Turgon’s line notwithstanding.

She yawned, stretched, and studied the carving she had been working on. A smiling Ent-wife gazed back at her from the door post of her twin brothers’ newest summer-lodge. The previous incarnations of which had been outgrown, fallen apart with time, or in one instance burnt to ashes due to an unattended cooking fire. Mornel thought the fire caused a fair bit of excitement at least.

When completed, the lodge will house another batch of Formenian, Avari, and Silvan youngsters entrusted to the care of the Ambarussa, their wives, and several respected elders of their clans for the season, during which it was hoped they would prove themselves worthy as adults of their respective tribes. Included in the mix were the fosterlings of Formenos, re-born elflings whose parents had yet to sail, or would remain in Mandos until the Second Music. These young ones took much of the attentions of her brothers and law-sisters.

The younger ones were lovingly cared for by the Ambarussa and their wives. The older ones were entrusted to the care of Caranthir and his wife Helwien, both known for their no-nonsense approach to difficult adolescents and keen eye for matching them to suitable apprenticeships. Caranthir took a dim view of any master abusing his apprentices and made sure all his charges got a fair deal. 

It had been hard initially. The concept of fostering young elflings was new among the Amanyar Noldor and Vanyar, who placed more stock on a child’s parentage than their Teleri cousins. Many were scandalized that the Feanorions dared think themselves fit foster-parents. Some of the reborn elflings who had frozen to death on the Grinding Ice found Formenos too harsh. They had to be sent southwards to warmer climes and no-less-loving homes with Lady Idril, Lady Elenwe, or on Tol Eressea with Prince Earlindo’s household. Even the shy and retiring Quildenen was convinced to accept a young elleth as her apprentice.

The Valar had been quiet for some time, which suited the inhabitants of Formenos just fine. Lord Orome and his wife did visit the nearby woods and joined in their midsummer festivities on occasion. However, they were creatures of the wilds and rarely ventured near the walls of the settlement. The Maiar from Lorien and Lord Manwe rarely visited, once they were convinced that the reborn elflings were well-cared for. Mornel never doubted her brothers and law-sisters would meet anyone but the most stubborn Eldar’s definition of responsible guardians. 

Mornel glanced up at a sharp crack and a heavy thud, followed by a full-throated wail of pain. A rambunctious boy had learned the hard way which branch could not bear his weight. Mornel set aside her tools and hastened over. At least with elflings, one should expect a surprise every few days, for better or worse. She sent for his parents and bore him to the healers’. She did not like the look of the child’s arm and suspected a broken bone.

* * *

It was a surprise when after depositing the injured elfling with the healers, Mornel found her good friend Olorin outside the healers’ hut.

“Master Olorin! What wind brings you here?” Mornel greeted the Maia. It had been a long while they last met.

“To bid farewell, my friend,” Olorin muttered. He did not sound happy at all. “My master has assigned me a task that will take me far from hence.”

“What task may this be? May I join you on this journey?” Mornel perked up. It has been a long while since she had reason to travel to the Furthest South. She could not think of any better travel companion for the lengthy journey than Master Olorin.

“Alas, no. I have been tasked to return to Endore. My companions will be Curumo and Aiwendil…” As he spoke, a change came over Olorin. His fana grew grey and stooped, until he appeared of one of the Edain of advanced years. “This will be my guise. What do you think?”

“Is there no way for me to join you on this mission?” Mornel lamented. “After all, Laurefindil was allowed leave to return…”

“I tried, my lady. Lord Manwe refused to budge on this…” Olorin sounded unhappy. “You stood up to _Him_ once…” Grey-bearded and wrinkled, Olorin looked Mornel in the eye. “I do not think I have the strength of will to do so…”

Mornel shivered, not from the chill of the coming night, but from the memory of that cloying voice in her dream more than an Age ago. _Sauron._ Eonwe had been remiss in not apprehending him at the end of the War, allowing him to mass his forces and spread in his lies. His false promises had cost the Numenoreans dear. The denizens of Lord Ulmo’s realm now frolic in the streets Elros Tar-Minyatur once trod. Even as Morgoth’s lieutenant, he had bested Finrod, who was renowned for his Songs.

Little was heard of the Blue Wizards, Pallando and Alatar, who had left Valinor with Glorfindel. Some claimed they were sent into the Furthermost East, past the Great Greenwood and the Iron Hills. Glorfindel of Gondolin now served as captain-of-arms in the household of Lord Elrond. It was hard to imagine the gangly elfling she recalled from the First Age now a wise loremaster and leader of the Noldor in Exile.

“Oh, Olorin. I trust you. I trust you will find that strength, just as Cousin Finrod and I did,” Mornel tried to reassure him. She tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. Olorin started as if to speak, but an overripe tomato hit the back of his head, splattering its juices over his hair. A giggling sounded from behind a nearby cart.

He drew himself up to his full height as much his current fana would allow.

“You little whippersnappers! I’d have a word with your parents, I would!” the Maia roared as the children ran off laughing. Mornel recognized them as wards of her brothers, who should be over at the lake learning useful outdoor skills from their Avari tutors, not slinking about twilight streets lobbing vegetables at random elves and Maiar.

“Well, that is a little better without the stoop, Olorin. More imposing…”

“Really?”

“Try not to frown so much… I find people tend to take me more seriously if I use my frowns in moderation…” Mornel smiled as she brushed off as much of the smashed tomato she could from her friend’s hair. She was reserving one of those frowns for telling off those wayward elflings. Having seen the pranksters off, Olorin was unlikely to report their mischief to their guardians.

“Do you seriously think I can stand up to Sauron?”

“Yes, Lord Manwe chose you for a reason… Perhaps you should get a hat with a wide brim, and a staff, seeing you will be on the road…” Mornel prattled on, not wanting Olorin to probe further.

“The Valar chose wrong before,” Olorin cut in. Mornel stopped her inane chatter. It was a rare thing in Valinor for a Maia to question the decisions of the Valar. Olorin must have real serious doubts to do so.

“I suppose Lord Manwe did not explain why he chose you to go, did he?” Mornel asked quietly and led her friend to a quiet bench outside the stables. If this was going to be a long talk, she would prefer they were both comfortable. Olorin shook his head.

“I suppose he chose you because you are you. You are able to speak to and befriend so many from all walks of life – from the king in his White City to the lowest servant. You inspire others, Olorin. You inspired Uncle to take me in, me to develop Formenos into this… You let Uncle believe he could make a difference for me, and for me to make a difference here in Formenos instead of leaving it to the brambles,” Mornel started. There were so many instances where a well-placed word from Olorin helped change someone’s life for the better.

“I should be speaking the same of you, Mornel,” Olorin sighed deeply as the city’s lights and hearth-fires flickered into life.

“You are a Maia. I am but an elf,” Mornel replied. “So the Valar found it necessary to limit your powers by binding them in the fana of an old man?”

“We did sink Beleriand after all,” Olorin shrugged.

“Please send Elrond and Glorfindel my regards,” Mornel added. “Galadriel and her family too.” They had news from new arrivals at Tol Eressea that Elrond had wed Galadriel’s daughter. There might even be more children by now for both Elrond and her cousin. “And should you see…” Mornel’s voice caught.

“Makalaure?” Olorin raised an eyebrow. Mornel nodded.

There was no telling where her brother was now, save he was not in Mandos. There was no telling if he would willingly return to Aman. There were whispers of an elvish bard wandering the shores of Endore singing his lament throughout the Second Age, but even these had faded into myth. Caranthir had bemoaned Glorfindel’s sudden departure, suggesting that their cousin should upon finding their missing brother, bind and set him upon the next ship to Aman.

“I suppose I might have a word or two with him, should our paths cross…”

Mornel understood. There were more important things at stake. Perhaps the Valar feared her concern over her brother might distract her from the mission at hand. And perhaps they did choose wisely this round. She did not know if on hearing of Makalaure’s whereabouts in Endore, she would drop everything to seek him out. Her path was here in Valinor, not Endore.

Both Maia and elf sat in silent companionship until the Moon rose over the city. After which they bade farewell to each other. Mornel watched as Olorin strode off in the fana of the old man he had chosen, until he reached the end of the lane and reverted to his spirit-form for the purpose of making quicker time.

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a one-shot in the series. Olorin is referring to an incident during the War of Wrath where Mornel broke Sauron's enchantment and challenged him.


End file.
